The Assassin and The Huntress
by Silvanna Nightlight
Summary: This story tells the first encounter of Zevran Arainai and Myrrah Mahariel, with the Antivan elf's point of view. Warning: Spoilers ahead


_WARNING_

_I do not own the characters of Dragon Age. This fic was written for the purpose of providing a fun time to everyone. Some words and dialogs written here appears in in Bioware's game, Dragons Age: Origins._

* * *

**The Assassin and The Huntress:**

**First Encounter**

by

Airshadow

_Translations:_

Ma emma harel - You should fear me.

Vir Adahlen - Together we are stronger than the one.

The trap was set and they were ready to receive their prey. The Antivan Crows were prepared to ambush and kill all the surviving Grey Wardens in Ferelden, as Arl Howe and the regency desired and had paid handsomely for the job. For his mates, this would be a great feat... For him, this would be the end. He was haunted, even in dreams, by two green lifeless eyes. Feelings of guilt and grief that filled his hours, made him want to fade into the void and this was the only acceptable way to do it.

"Just few minutes more..." thought Zevran "Just few minutes more and all would have finished"

That part of the road was perfect because it was narrow, also had many places where the archers and mages could aim at the marks. They only have to block one of the sides with a tree trunk and the Grey Wardens wouldn't have other choice than fight. Zevran looked at the sky; it was a day clear and sunny... A perfect day to die.

The sentinels arrived with the expected news, they were approaching. Without delay, everyone took their positions... including him. Some of his mates had covered behind the wagons; others were prepared to drop the trunk to block their marks' retreat. The decoy ran towards them in order to lure them to the trap. But he wouldn't hide, he would die in this battle and wanted to be sure of that.

The marks were approaching. The group wasn't too big and seemed to be lead by a female Dalish elf. Zevran couldn't avoid smiling for the irony, his mother was one and he would die in the hands of another one; it was... fitting. The others members were a young knight, an elder woman, and a young one with black hair. When the Grey Wardens arrived at the place, they knew that it was a trap.

He made the signal and his men appeared. The tree trunk almost hit the female Dalish, who quickly avoided it.

"The Grey Warden dies here!" he screamed, drawing his swords.

The leader took her two Dar'Misu and charged against him. She was very beautiful. Her eyes were brown and almond shaped; her hair was long and dark brown. She was slender and fast, dodging nearly every swipe he took with his blades. His knowledge about the Dalish wasn't so deep, but her vallaslin, or as the scholars traslated it as Blood Writing, showed that she worshiped the godess of the hunt: Andruil.

"MA EMMA HAREL!" she shouted while she blocked his forceful and clumsy attacks (what better way to die, than the incompetence he ghosted?); hers, in other hand, were swift and precise... They were as perfect as the verses of a poem.

The battle raged around them. The other Warden started to attack the decoy, who was an apostate. She wasn't a match for his Templar abilities. Eventually, he had drained her of mana, and she was desperately swinging her staff, trying to hit him in the head. After he finished her, he moved toward the nearby warrior. The mages did a good trick when they combined spells to create a storm of fire, same that killed many of the archers.

Focus! Focus! Focus! He must keep the focus! His amber eyes met her brown ones... An explosion sounded in the background; before to fell in the darkness, he thought for a second in a two green lifeless eyes.

_Rinna..._

**** o0o ****

Pain.

He felt pain. He tried to move, and it was when he realized that he was tied up. Whispers around him, made him to shake off and totally wake up. The Dalish gal was looking at him; it was hard to say what was crossing in her mind. In the other hand the Templar glanced him as if he wasn't happy with his presence. Well, in his shoes, Zevran wouldn't be glad to still see someone who attempted to assassinate his leader with his head still attached. This sudden change in events would need the use of his undoubted charm.

"I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see you haven't killed me yet", Zevran pointed out.

"That could be easily rectified..." answered the leader; her voice was clear with an accent which added more attractive to her exotic beauty.

"Of that I have no doubt. You are most skilled. If you haven't killed me, however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes?" he said with his most enchanting smile.

"You seem awfully glib for a prisoner." She raised an eyebrow.

"This is my way, or so I am told." He chuckled, while the shadow of a smile was drawn in the Danish's beautiful lips "Let's see then. I assume that you kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? If so, let me save you time and get right to the point... My name is Zevran. Zev to my friends. I am member for the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I failed at, sadly."

"I'm rather happy you failed", she answered.

"So I would be, in your shoes." he replied, while had the feeling that they were establishing a report. "For me however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn't it? Getting captured by a target seems a tad detrimental to one's budding assassin career."

"Too bad for you, then." She grinned, but there was no hint of malice. Perhaps she was amused?

"Yes, it's true…too bad for me."

The leader started to interrogate him, about who made the contract and what would have had done in case of success among another topics. He answered sincerely every question that she was doing; in order to get some amount of trust, he had to tell the truth.

"Why are you telling me all this? Aren't a least loyal to your employers?" she asked and for her expression she was slightly surprised.

"Well I wasn't paid for silence, my dear", he answered with a chuckle. "And about the loyalty, that is an interesting concept… If you wish, and you're done interrogate me, we can discuss it further."

The expression of the Warden turned to wary and averted. "I'm listening, make it quick".

This was the moment of his great move, he took a deep breath and spoke, "Well, here's the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how these things work. If you don't kill me, then the Crows will. Thing is, that I like _living_. And you, obviously, are the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead".

"Why would I want your service?"

"Why? Because I am skilled in at many things, from fighting, to stealth and picking-locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more... sophisticated, now that my attempts had failed. I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors? No?" Zevran suppressed a grin.

"Bed-warming might be nice" she teased with a smile.

"See? I knew that we would find a common interest. Or two. Or three. I really can go all night." He added with a charming smile "So what shall it be? I'll even shine armor. You won't find a better deal, I promise".

She seemed to ponder carefully the offer and with a serious expression, asked "What do you want in return?"

"Well... Let's see. Being allowed to live would be nice, and would make me marginally more useful for you and somewhere down to line if you decide that you no longer have need of me, then I go on my way. Until then, I'm yours. Is that fair?"

"Can I expect the same amount of loyalty from you?" she questioned him while he watched carefully his eyes as if she tried to find deception in them.

"I happen to be a very loyal person. Up until the point where someone expects me to die for failing. That's no fault, really, is it?" he replied sincerely "I mean, unless you are the sort who would do the same thing. In which case, I don't come very well recommended, I suppose."

The lass's face turned more serious and looked as if she had an inner struggle. She looked at him and her expression softened. She took a knife, and for a second he thought that was the end. With a quick movement she cut the ropes and told him with a smile "Very well, I accept your offer."

The Warden-Templar objected, but she persuaded him. The black-haired mage started to give smart comments about it while the older one just shook her head. The warden didn't listen and helped him to stand up. It was his imagination, or her hand slightly shook when he touch her? Never mind.

"I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such time as you choose to release me from it." he vowed "I am you man, without reservation... This I swear."

***** o0o *****

The night had fallen in the Warden Camp when they arrived. He could appreciate the other companions of his new protector. It was the most diverse collection of individuals: A Qunari, who was animated like a statue, another sexy gal, who seemed to be a bard and a very skilled rogue too, and a mabari that seemed to belong to the Warden. Other members of the groups were two dwarves and a representative of the Circle of Magi.

The welcoming was very cold, and it got colder when they knew who he was and the circumstances of his presence. He shook his head; he would need to keep the good graces with his new mistress if he wanted remain there. The supper was almost ready, and the Dalish elf suggested that while it was cooked, she could help him to install himself in the camp. Alistair, that was the Templar's name, jumped up quickly and said that he would help too. It was obvious that he was very mistrustful...farther than simple concern for their leader. Zevran wondered if something was between them.

The dinner was... awkward, as best. With the exception of the Dalish-Warden, everyone watched the pot carefully when he served his part, as if he would dare poison the food after the humiliation of a failed attempt on the Warden's life (did they think he had no honor? Or pride, for that matter?).The post supper chat was much better, he was able to make even Alistair smile. He was able to learn a little about his new and sexy mistress, they were traveling from the Circle of Magi towards the camp, and planning which ally to contact next.

"I was thinking..." Alistair started to say.

"Oh, you can _think_?" started to pester the black-haired mage, that he have learned that her name was Morrigan "That's a marvel indeed..."

"It is very unpolite interrupt when some one is speaking, dear." Wynne scolded.

"Who is interrupting now, old cat?" Morrigan spat back.

"Hey! Show respect!", Alistair shouted.

"Calm down", said the elf in a tone firm but conciliatory "Vir Adahlen... Remember that together we are stronger than the one.."

"Well... As I was saying, I suggest go to Redcliffe..."Alistair looked at Morrigan as if daring her to interrupt him; when she didn't, he continued, "If Arl Eamon has been poisoned, we must to try to save him."

"We must rest, then", the Warden replied with a sigh. "We will have a long day tomorrow."

The others agreed and started to said their good nights. Coincidentally (or by an unspoked reason), his tent was close to that sexy goddes of war...and speaking of, she was walking straight towards him.

"Zevran... Zev",she corrected herself, while she was approaching. "May I ask something?"

"You can ask all the things that you want, my dear" he answered with his most charming smile "Even about dirty things".

She smiled, but it faded after few seconds. Then, she asked,"Do you know if the Crows have something to do with the Arl's poisoning? do you think that Loghain contracted their... services against him?"

She had a sharp mind, he thought, and answered "So far I know, my fair Warden, the Crows' only contract in Ferelden was to kill you and our grumpy fellow, Alistair".

"Alistair isn't grumpy", she said defensively.

"No? Have you not seen the frowns everytime we are around?"

"He's very protective." She sat down close to him. "We have lost so many good friends in Ostagar... One of them, I owed my life".

"You were in that slaughter?" he replied, surprised.

"I arrived there the day before the battle. I met King Cailan. He was very kind with me, unlike other shems I've met. I met the other Wardens too; but the loss of Duncan, my mentor, is what hurt most...He saved my life." she anwered with sadness.

"...Sorry", said Zevran said sincerely.

"Alistair lost much more, The Grey Wardens were his family. Now, we have to stop this Blight, whatever its cost."

"Well, we still have to see if this truly a Blight..."

"Us Grey Wardens, we have ability to sense darkspawn. Not only the horde, the archedemon's minons. It _is_ an Archdemon behind this. Belive me, this is a Blight."

"How reassuring", he thought aloud.

"I should go, you need rest."

She started to get up and he quickly grabbed one of her hands. She looked surprised and looked down at him. "My dear...I have but one question."

"Yes?"

"You have not told me your name."

"That's not a question", she smiled and answered, "My name is Myrrah."

Myrrah...

It was a beautiful name. He let her go. She walked towards her tent and her mabari was hopping around her, begging for pets. She gently scratched behind his ears and the bulky dog laid down to sleep. What was he seeing now? Melancholy? It was almost an insult that sadness was reflected in such a beautiful face. But now that he remembered, she always looked so unhappy when nobody looked at her.

He shook his head. Maybe she also had a broken heart, and it was nothing related with the Wardens... A lover, perhaps? Now he was just making stories. He lied down on his bedroll. It was funny that his planned death had failed, but he didn't regret it at all. He closed his eyes, almost expecting be haunted by the Rinna's lifeless ones but this time in their place appeared two sad brown eyes.


End file.
